Four Hundred Pounds Plus

Me Pops had a lot of great stories about his time in the welder rental and drain snake business. I hope to one day tell them all. One that just popped back into the front of my mind today involved the biggest man Dad ever dealt with. He was a good guy just the same, genuinely helpful and gregarious. But he was big. And he had the strong to go with his size. I'll leave exactly how big and strong to your imagination. But think bigger than you think big is.

To give an example of his size and strength, there was a job where me Pops was delivering welders along with the heavy cables necessary to weld with. These cables weighed a touch over a pound a foot. That particular day Dad had several 200 ft. lengths to deliver.

Guys were coming up to the back of Dad's truck and doubling up, two to a cable, to carry them over to the tool crib. Big Jim walked up and offered Pops a shoulder. "Put one there, Bill," he instructed.

"They're two hundred footers, Jim."

"Put one there," he replied simply, wagging his shoulder at the old man. So Dad did, setting it down as gently as he could. Then Jim turned about and said, "Give me another," indicating his empty shoulder.

"They're all two hundreds," Dad reminded him. Jim replied, "Give me another."

So me Pops set another cable on that shoulder. Big Jim walked away with more than 400 pounds of welding cable on his shoulders as though taking a stroll in the park.

I want him on my side in a rumble.

Joe's righteous anger

Me Grandpa Joe rented welding machines, as many of you by now know. He really wasn't fussy about much, but one of those things was his welding cable.

Each machine typically had to have 150-200 feet of cable while in operation. These cables were copper coated rubber and were about an inch thick. He always made sure that they were rolled in loops which were easy for a man to carry on his shoulder. On this point he was very particular; it could take forever to unknot even one cable. That was just time wasted, he rightly believed. Coil the cables, tie them off, and stack them nicely when the job was through, that was his mantra.

Once Acme Steel Processors (not the company's real name) rented ten welders from Joe and had them for a couple of months. When the job was over, Joe himself happened to be the man who went to pick them up. He was greeted at the Acme plant with a pile of unrolled, tangled cable. All his beautiful welding cable, more than 2,000 feet, was piled in a jumbled, knotted mess upon a pallet. His fuse, short anyway, was set.

About then the foreman came up to Joe and said, "There was trouble with one of your welders. The plant manager wants to talk to you."

Joe barked, "That's just dandy, because I want to talk to him too."

Grandpa stormed into the plant manager's office. The manager, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, never had a chance to open his mouth. Joe lit right into him, a blast of emphatic, rough English, yet with no expletives more than Joe's liberal use of the mild one 'hell', explaining exactly how little he cared for discovering his cable in one God-awful mess. That was not how he delivered it, Joe asserted vigorously. It was gonna take hours to sort out he, um, explained. I've been told it was quite a harangue. Those who do not know Joe must understand that when his dander was up, whole neighborhoods knew it. Hell, to use his favorite word, small towns were made aware.

As Joe was winding down Cloyce made the mistake of remarking, "You don't have to be so loud, Joe."

"Hell yeah I do!" Joe bellowed. "I want everyone in here to know what I think and I don't want to have to tell them each individually!" He was off again.

I don't believe Cloyce ever got to voice his complaint. He was probably quite happy to get back to the mundane tasks of plant managing once Grandpa left.

Saved by a snag

Regular patrons of this here blog know well that me Grandpa Joe rented arc welding machines, and that he trained as a welder. I've too lamented how he hated tangled welding cable, hated it with a passion. So it was quite a surprise one day when he told me that if he ever took a ride on an airplane, he'd take a length of welding cable wrapped around him.

Completely perplexed, I stammered, "Why would you do that?"

"Cause if I fell out of that plane it would save me. Welding cable always snags on something."

Who says Joe didn't have a sense of humor?

But Could You take it on a Plane?

Regular patrons of this here blog know well that me Grandpa Joe rented arc welding machines, and that he trained as a welder. I've too lamented how he hated tangled welding cable, hated it with a passion. So it was quite a surprise one day when he told me that if he ever took a ride on an airplane, he'd take a length of welding cable wrapped around him.

Completely perplexed, I stammered, "Why would you do that?"

"Cause if I fell out of that plane it would save me. Welding cable always snags on something."

Who says Joe didn't have a sense of humor? 

Big Jim and the heavy cables

Me Pops had a lot of great stories about his time in the welder rental and drain snake business. I hope to one day tell them all. One that just popped back into the front of my mind today involved the biggest man Dad ever dealt with. He was a good guy just the same, genuinely helpful and gregarious, and he was big. And strong. I'll leave exactly how big and strong to your imagination. But think bigger than you think big is.

To give an example of his size and strength, there was a job where me Pops was delivering welders along with the heavy cables necessary to weld with. These cables weighed a touch over a pound a foot. That particular day Dad had several 200 ft. lengths to deliver.

Guys were coming up to the back of Dad's truck and doubling up, two to a cable, to carry them over to the tool crib. Big Jim walked up and offered Pops a shoulder. "Put one there, Bill," he instructed.

"They're two hundred footers, Jim."

"Put one there," he replied simply, rotating his shoulder. So Dad did, setting it on his shoulder as gently as he could. Then Jim turned about and said, "Give me another," indicating his empty shoulder.

"They're all two hundreds," Dad reminded him. Jim replied, "Give me another."

So me Pops set another cable on that shoulder. Big Jim walked away with more than 400 pounds of welding cable on his shoulders as though taking a stroll in the park.

That's strong.

Saved by the cable

Regular patrons of this here blog know well that me Grandpa Joe rented arc welding machines, and that he trained as a welder. I've too lamented how he hated tangled welding cable, hated it with a passion. So it was quite a surprise one day when he told me that if he ever took a ride on an airplane, he'd take a length of welding cable wrapped around him.

Completely perplexed, I stammered, "Why would you do that?"

"Cause if I fell out of that plane it would save me. Welding cable always catches on something."

Who says the old coot didn't have a sense of humor?

The Gordian Knot of welding cable

Me Grandpa Joe rented welding machines, as many of you by now know. He really wasn't fussy about much, but one of those things was his welding cable.

Each machine typically had to have 150-200 feet of cable while in operation. These cables were copper coated rubber and were about an inch thick. He always made sure that they were rolled in loops which were easy for a man to carry on his shoulder. On this point he was very particular; it could take forever to unknot even one cable. That was just time wasted, he rightly believed. Coil the cables, tie them off, and stack them nicely when the job was through, that was his mantra.

Once Acme Steel Processors (not the company's real name) rented ten welders from Joe and had them for a couple of months. When the job was over, Joe himself happened to be the man who went to pick them up. He was greeted at the Acme plant with a pallet of unrolled welding cable. All his beautiful welding cable, more than 2,000 feet, was piled in a jumbled, knotted mess. His fuse, short anyway, was set.

About then the foreman came up to Joe and said, "There was trouble with one of your welders. The plant manager wants to talk to you."

Joe barked, "That's just dandy, because I want to talk to him too."

Grandpa stormed into the plant manager's office. The manager, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, never had a chance to open his mouth about whatever issue he had. Joe lit right into him, a blast of emphatic, rough English, yet with no expletives more than Joe's liberal use of the mild one 'hell', explaining exactly how little he cared for discovering his cable in one God-awful mess. That was not how he delivered it, Joe vigorously orated. It was gonna take hours to sort out he, um, explained. I've been told it was quite a harangue. Those who did not know Joe must understand that when his dander was up, whole neighborhoods knew it. Hell, to use his favorite word, small towns were made aware.

As Joe was just beginning to wind down Cloyce did manage to say, "You don't have to be so loud, Joe."

"Hell yeah I do!" Joe bellowed. "I want everyone in here to know what I think and I don't want to have to tell each one individually!" And he was off again.

I don't believe Cloyce ever got to make his point. He was probably quite happy to get back to the mundane tasks of plant managing once me Grandpa left.